When the dance was over and the panting children were resting, Gabriel Newt, Lawrence’s youngest boy, said to Arthur,

“Mr. Merlin, what game shall we play now?  What game do you like best?”

“The game of life, my boy,” replied Arthur.

“Oh, pooh!” said Gabriel, doubtfully, with a vague feeling that Mr. Merlin was quizzing him.

But the painter was in earnest; and if you are of his opinion, patient and gentle reader, it is for you to say who, among all the players we have been watching, held Trumps.